


My Link

by Petalpistols



Category: Breath of the Wild Legend Of Zelda, LOZ - Fandom, Legend of Zelda, botw - Fandom
Genre: Deceased parent, Family, Mother Son Relationship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 10:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petalpistols/pseuds/Petalpistols
Summary: This was actually a writing sample posted to my rp account!!  Please feel free to critique me :)





	My Link

  
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐒ometimes Link would ask his father what his mother was like on quiet early mornings over breakfast. The smell of eggs and sausages clinging to the walls of their humble abode as steam created clouds that hung high against the ceiling. His father, a quiet broad shouldered and hard handed warrior would always grow momentarily still at his son’s curiosity. He didn’t always answer- opting instead to tell Link to eat his breakfast. But on the days he spoke of his late wife, the way her wheat colored hair curled at the ends, to how her passionate blue eyes, bright and vibrant, similar the great rivers of Hyrule glittered beneath morning light, there would often be a nostalgic lilt to his tone, a slight curl to the corner of his mouth.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀She was, as his father described, daring and adventurous. Incredibly proud and fiercely stubborn- deeply rooted in her beliefs. But there was also a gentle calmness to her when need be. Like the summer sun, she was radiant and loved by many, and could cool to a long days evening when still. He was told her belly was wide and full when she was pregnant with him. She would waddle to and from their house to nearby shops despite his father protests, and that whenever she could, her hands found themselves at her midsection, holding her protruding belly as if she was embracing Link whenever she grew impatient for his arrival.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“She smelled like saffron and sounded like the ocean smoothing over shells on the beach.” His father muttered between bites of his eggs. “She never swore but often came close, and she cried like an autumn’s day rainfall- quiet and to herself.”

His father admitted that he knew little of her past. She was secretive, harboring memories of her own childhood deep within her breast, but his father said he never cared to know more than what she would offer.

“She was there with me, holding my hand.” His father’s fingers tapped over their smoothed wooden table, his breakfast now growing cold. “And that was all I ever needed.”

The rest he heard from locals in Hateno village, those of which who knew how to understand to the quiet young man. Doctors told Link she was often ill, but hated bed rest, while merchants complained she could haggle like she only had a few rupees to her name, always beating them at their own game. The elders called her troublesome, but smiled while doing so- fondly as they recounted her passionate antics.

But Link’s favorite story came from a neighbor who lived nearby. She was quiet and calm, her children long since moving on to greater and better things. She enjoyed the company.

“She was in the garden with you, sitting beneath the large tree in your yard, surrounded by wild flowers. She would sit under the shade and braid the stems of cardinals and primroses together until her fingers ached. She wanted so desperately to create a crown of flowers for you. On the day she had finally succeeded, she smiled and placed it atop your head- only then realizing it was far too big for you! Falling over your head and onto your neck. It looked like a lopsided necklace. She laughed so hard tears pinched the corners of her eyes.”

Link sat close to her as he listened, throwing bird seed for the sparrows and goldfinches that would take part in an early evening lunch.

“She loved you more than I could ever begin to explain, and cried when she found out you inherited none of her poor health.” She smiled as she watched the birds hop around, pecking at the seed hiding between tufts of grass. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s her when the wind blows, guiding you where you need to go.”

Link stared at her for a long moment, she spoke again.

“She is gone, but her presence has never truly left.”

It was a comforting thought, for his mother to always be by his side. He was told she was buried in a white gown, holding a handful of flowers that of which were yellow in color. She liked the color yellow, he was told. It reminded her of sunny days and clear skies. She had died in her sleep, peaceful and still. She had looked like she had only been resting her eyes.

“Do you know why she named you Link.” His father asked quietly as he cleaned the edge of his sword. Link cocked his head to the side- his father merely smiled, settling his weapon back onto it’s mount.

“Because she said you would ‘link’ us together as a family.”

_ “Sweet boy....” She whispered his name like a prayer, brushing the hair he had inherited from her from his eyes. “My sun.” She kissed his brow, and Link giggled, touching her cheek with small, pale hands. “Be better than your father and I, and know that no matter where you travel, I will always be there, holding your hand.”_

_“My Link.”_


End file.
